


MythBusters Shouldn't Play with Dead Things

by dark_roast



Category: MythBusters RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-01
Updated: 2008-09-01
Packaged: 2017-10-10 06:48:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/96809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dark_roast/pseuds/dark_roast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rating:  R<br/>Spoilers: None<br/>Written for Apocalyptothon 2008 (Recipient: JMTorres)<br/>Warnings: Bad language, gore, violence; and horrible, horrible character death.</p><p>Original Request: <i>"After the zombie apocalypse, Jamie and Adam dispel several misconceptions about the undead enemy."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	MythBusters Shouldn't Play with Dead Things

Jamie liked things better this way. He never said so, but Adam knew he did. No television crew running cables all over the floor, and covering everything with duct tape. No craft services people constantly plying him with muffins and M&amp;Ms. No outsiders.

He did miss the show. Jamie didn’t talk about that, either, but Adam knew, because Adam missed the show, too. Adam also missed the muffins and the M&amp;Ms. And his wife. Not necessarily in that order.

Over a dinner of canned hash and warm Sprites, Grant suggested they start broadcasting again. Nobody said no. Nobody said anything for a second or two. _We could do it,_ Grant continued into the startled silence. _We could stream episodes over the net. Just like old times._

_Not really,_ Jamie said.

_We’re still getting e-mails from people who used to watch the show,_ said Grant. _Why can’t we make new shows? Our fans need to know some things haven’t changed._

_It’ll give us something to do, _ Tory pointed out. _Aside from picking off shamblers along the perimeter. We’re bored, you know. Sooner or later, boredom is gonna get us all killed._

And that decided the issue.

***

Grant twiddled with the cables, hit a few keys on his computer, then gave the thumbs-up.

"Give us a break," Adam said to the small video camera in Tory’s hand. "Don't try anything you're about to see at home."

"Ever!" Jamie said from behind Adam. Just like old times.

Adam said to the camera, "Welcome to a brand new episode of _MythBusters_, streaming straight to you, live from The De-Bunker, deep in an undisclosed location. Many of our surviving viewers have e-mailed me to ask who would win in a fight between a zombie and a shark.”

"Adam, not one person has ever e-mailed you about that," Jamie said.

"Sure they have."

"No, they haven’t. It’s just something you saw in a zombie movie.”

“A _classic_ zombie movie,” Tory said from behind the camera.

“Thank you,” Adam told him.

Tory added, “Everybody knows about the zombie-shark fight. It’s a seminal moment in zombie cinema.”

“Like the half-a-dog in _Return of the Living Dead,_” said Grant.

“Besides,” said Adam, “A lot of our myths come from the movies.”

“Our time would be much better spent busting popular zombie myths that might mean the difference between life and death for our viewers,” Jamie replied.

“Dude.” Adam pressed a hand to his chest. “What about honoring tradition? Is that not important to you?”

“Honoring the tradition of zombie cinema? No. I can honestly say that’s not the slightest bit important to me.”

“Discovery Channel tradition,” Adam said. “Shark week, man.”

“You can’t be serious.”

Adam spread his arms and grinned.

Jamie adjusted his beret, then turned to the table beside him. From the clutter of engine parts and blueprints and PVC piping; miscellaneous bits of metal, plastic and wood, Jamie fished out a sheet of paper. He held it up. “This is an _actual_ fan e-mail sent by Maggie and Brian, from their stronghold at White Flint Mall in Rockville, Maryland.”

“Nice. Very _Dawn of the Dead_,” Tory said.

Adam nodded approvingly. “Going with a classic.”

Jamie continued, “Maggie and Brian want to know whether the current plague of the walking dead is caused by government experiments gone horribly wrong, by an outbreak of alien spores, or if it’s a punishment from a wrathful deity.”

Adam stared at him for a long moment.

"What?" Jamie said.

"How exactly do you plan on testing _any_ of those hypotheses?”

"I appreciate a challenge."

Adam shook his head. “You remember the time we tried to prove God didn’t exist?”

“That episode had some awesome bloopers,” Tory laughed.

Taking the camera from Tory, Adam turned it around and pointed it at his build team. "Zombie versus shark?" Adam asked. “Your thoughts?"

"Shark," Tory said promptly. "Giant bowl of zombie soup."

"What if they ignored each other?" Grant said. "A shark's got a great sense of smell. Zombies smell horrible."

"That's true," Tory said. "Plus, zombies don't eat sharks."

"As far as you know," Adam said.

"Uh..." Grant said. "Okay. True. As far as we know."

"Precisely!" Adam exclaimed.

"Adam, we are not pitting a shark against a zombie,” said Jamie. “End of discussion."

"We could…” Adam said, “What if we… you know…”

Grant and Tory both looked confused.

Realization, then fury spread across Tory’s face. “I can’t believe you even suggested that!”

Grant caught on a second later, his expression turning horrified.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Adam said. “She loved the show. I know she’d still want to contribute."

"No she doesn't,” Jamie snapped from off-screen. Adam swung the video camera to focus on his angry co-host, as Jamie added curtly, “You’re perpetuating one of the most dangerous zombie myths out there."

Adam sighed. "I know, I know. But, it’s _Kari_."

"We should have put her down like a dog, as soon as the sound guy bit her."

“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”

Jamie pointed at the camera. "Every single day, people think the undead will remember their loved ones. Then those people bust that myth when they die. Or worse.”

"Come on, Jamie…"

Jamie ignored him. His mustache quivered with deep disapproval. "Zombies are not your friends. They are not your mother or your father -- or your wife. They are monsters. Kill them before they kill you."

“Let’s focus on the Shark Week Special,” Adam said tightly. “Shall we?”

"What you’re suggesting is incredibly stupid and dangerous."

"That's never stopped us before.”

Jamie’s frown unbent slightly. "Okay," he admitted. "Fair enough."

***

The camera swung around in a wobbly pan to where Jamie stood, beret cocked forward for action, one hand resting on the wheel of a small boat moving swiftly over choppy water. Behind him, Adam hung over the rail.

“How are you doing?” Tory asked from behind the camera.

Adam groaned. "Oh God… this sucks so bad…"

"This was your idea," Jamie reminded him, smiling slightly.

Adam wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and straightened up, clinging to the rail. “Welcome to the MythBusters Shark Week Special, streaming straight to you, live from Jamie’s boat. Oh yeah. Remember… give us a break. Don't try anything you're about to see at home."

"Ever!" Jamie piped up cheerfully.

Adam flopped over the rail again.

Tory swung the camera around to focus on Grant, standing next to him. "Hey, Grant. Why don’t you fill our viewers in on the plan, huh?

"Sure thing," said Grant. “For our Shark Week Special, we’re going to find out who’d win in a fight between a zombie and a shark, like in the movie _Zombie_.”

Tory added, “ Also known as _Zombie 2_, although it’s the first in the series, because Lucio Fulci was cashing in on _Dawn of the Dead_. In the movie, the fight was pretty much a draw. The shark swam away, so the zombie only won on a technicality.”

“Right,” Grant said. “It would be a waste of time to try and find a live shark in an aquarium. There’s no one left to feed them. So, we're heading out a couple miles from shore to chum the waters, and see if we can't stir up some sharks.”

Grant walked toward the stern of the boat, the brisk wind ruffling his dark hair. Tory followed.

“Lucky for us, we still have the shark cage we got for last year's Shark Week Special,” Grant -continued. “Jamie wanted to get rid of it. The De-Bunker is a lot smaller than M5, and he said it took up too much space. But, it turned out to be a good thing we kept it.”

Sturdy chains lashed the shark cage securely to the deck. In one corner of the cage sat Kari, morosely chewing on a strand of hair that so tangled and dirty, it was impossible to tell whether it had once been tomato red, or platinum blond. Kari’s clothing hung in rags over her crinkled, scrawny body. Her skin had withered on her bones like the skin of a very old woman. All over, she was a faint shade of greenish-blue, except when she stayed in one place too long. Then the blood settled under her skin, blooming in huge, purplish bruises along the backs of her legs and arms.

Kari growled halfheartedly as Grant and Tory approached the cage. She didn’t bother to jump up and lunge at them anymore. Even when Tory moved closer with the camera.

“This is where we keep her,” Tory murmured.

Grant said, “Jamie’s right. Eliminate the undead. Don’t try this at home. Or wherever you are. Holed up in warehouses, or sewer tunnels, or supermarkets; don’t try it…” Grant turned away from the camera, gazing toward Kari. “Don’t do it.” Then he turned back, his eyes narrowed. “We shouldn’t have done it either.”

“No,” Tory said.

Grant took a sharp breath, and shook himself. “We’ve got a lot of experience working with dangerous substances. It’s fascinating to be able to study a zombie under controlled conditions. Right now, we can bust a few myths for you. Number one, Kari isn't affected by the loss of her food source. She's been... this way for about a month. She’s fine. Well, not _fine_. But, she’s basically unchanged since this happened. She also hasn't decayed as fast as a regular corpse. We don't know exactly why.”

Tory said, “And getting close enough to find out would be even dumber than all the dumb stuff we’ve already done, put together.” He pointed the camera at Kari again, zooming in on her wasted, hollow-eyed face. “How you doing, Kari? You like being on boats. Remember?"

Kari rolled one cloudy eye in his direction, and continued chewing her hair.

"Dude,” Grant said softy. "You’re only making it worse for yourself."

“But, she’s not completely brain-dead,” Tory said.

Grant grunted skeptically.

“Kari knows she can’t get us,” Tory said. “She doesn’t even try anymore. That means she’s learned something. After.”

"She still doesn't know who you are."

Tory answered quietly, “I know that. I just like talking to her.”

"Me too," Grant sighed.

***

Somebody had to film the underwater experiment. Grant had that phobia about fish touching his body, and Jamie refused to go into the ocean this time. Period.

While Adam and Tory suited up, Jamie winched the shark cage out over the water. Kari didn’t exhibit any curiosity about what was happening. Jamie sprang the door latch; Adam and Tory tipped the cage. Kari squawked in surprise, flapped her arms like a broken bird, and toppled into the ocean.

Adam and Tory scrambled into the shark cage, and Jamie lowered it down through water swirling with bloody fish guts, after Kari. Grant hurried aft to switch the video feed from his own camera, over to Tory’s.

Kari sank through the chum-clouded water, mouth open and fingers instinctively grasping, until she settled to the bottom. She lay motionless as the sand settled around her, then she rose to her feet. Underwater, she regained a creepy echo of the gracefulness she’d had while she was alive. Her hair swirled around her face in a red and blond halo and, blotched with pallid blues and greens, Kari nearly disappeared into the vast blue-green around her.

Sharks began to appear, drawn by the smell of fish blood. Like a zombie mermaid, half swimming, half squirming – Kari moved away from the cage holding Adam and Tory; and toward the sharks.

"Well, my theory's busted already,” Grant announced over Tory’s video transmission. “Kari and the sharks have definitely noticed each other."

Tory’s voice crackled back over the radio, “Maybe Kari still thinks she can’t get at us.”

“Easier equals tastier?” Adam offered.

“Just stay sharp, you guys,” Jamie said.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” said Adam.

One of the sharks bumped Kari with its nose, checking her out. Kari staggered and flopped down on the bottom, disappearing in a puff of sand like a magician’s assistant. When she reappeared, she struggled to her feet once more.

A second shark darted in, chomping down on her arm. Kari tried to tug herself free. When that didn’t work, she seized the shark by its gill slit, and wrenched herself around, teeth snapping. The shark twisted in the opposite direction, ripping off Kari’s arm. Blood bloomed in the water, spreading swiftly. The other sharks closed in, as Kari whipped around and bit the shark who had taken her arm.

"Holy shit…" Grant whispered, and then he snapped out of scientific fascination. "Jamie! Bring them up! Bring them up right now!"

“Kari!” Tory cried. But he kept filming.

The shark cage rose toward the surface, through water filled with a thrashing tangle of shark and zombie. Grant switched video feeds to his own camera, but not before Tory’s camera recorded the frenzied sharks tearing Kari to pieces.

Jamie winched the shark cage safely to the deck of the boat, where Adam and Tory tumbled out, tearing off their masks and re-breathers. Tory's camera rolled from of his numb fingers. Jamie knelt down beside his teammates.

"Are you okay?" he demanded. "Adam? Tory?"

Adam gasped, "Oh my God. Shit. That was incredible! Am I missing an eyebrow? Am I missing my left arm? Am I missing my entire body?”

"You're babbling," Jamie said. "Deep breaths, Adam. In... Out..."

“Best shark week special ever, man! Best ever!"

"Kari. Oh God, Kari." Shaking, Tory pushed himself to his hands and knees, staring at Adam and Jamie. "I can't believe you. I can’t believe any of us. Who are we? How could we sacrificed Kari for some fucking Shark Week Special?"

"Tory, calm down." Jamie told him. "It wasn’t Kari anymore. It was a zombie. We used a zombie in an experiment. An idiotic experiment I never should have agreed to.”

Tory grabbed the deck rail, and pulled himself upright. "It was Kari!”

A shark exploded from the water, huge lacerations gaping in its skin, ribs visible and guts streaming out; eyes burning white.

“Tory!” Grant screamed.

Before Tory could even turn, the shark bit him in half. Wriggling and flopping it slithered on deck, jaws snapping. Another shark slammed the far side of the boat. Grant dropped his camera. It slid across the tilted deck and bumped to a stop, still recording a sideways view of Jamie sprinting for the wheelhouse.

"Jesus Christ!" Adam exclaimed from off-camera. "Zombie sharks! Holy shit!"

Adam started to giggle, but his laughter turned to high-pitched shrieks as half of Tory emerged from beneath the shark, and began to slither toward Adam, picking up speed along the slippery, sharply canted deck.

Jamie reappeared with a rifle, pumping round after round into the shark's body, until at last one of the bullets struck it between the eyes. The shark fell to the blood-slicked deck and didn’t move again.

“Head shot is the kill shot,” Jamie said grimly. “Myth confirmed.”

“Tory!” Adam shouted. “Tory, stop! It’s me!”

“Dammit, Adam! How many times do I have to say it? Zombies do not care who you are!”

Jamie charged off-camera. More rifle shots followed.

The boat shuddered, pitched sharply. Grant’s abandoned camera slid and rolled down the deck; the video transmission became a jumbled blur of shape and color, a chaos of screaming, cracking wood, roaring water and gunfire.

Somewhere, Grant was screaming, "Fish! Fish touching my body! Fish!"

The camera slammed to a halt against a protruding piece of Jamie’s boat, which was torn nearly in two, water pouring over the shattered sides. In the background of the shot, Tory lay unmoving on the deck, his skull blown apart. Beside him sprawled Adam, his cheek ripped open, showing teeth in a permanent grin. The fingers of his outstretched hand flexed, and then his eyelids slid open. Even from across the deck, his blank, white eyes were unmistakable.

Then somebody fumbled for the camera, and swung it around. Jamie. Pale and blood-streaked, his white lab shirt in tatters, one sleeve torn away to show the bleeding chunk torn from his upper arm. With his free hand, Jamie adjusted his beret.

"Don't even know… if we're still transmitting…" Jamie panted. He wiped beads of blood and sweat off his mustache. "Never try anything you see on the show… ever. But if you do have to fight the undead… remember. Always save… the last bullet for yourself.”

The video transmission went dark.

***


End file.
